Cats are Dicks

Let's face it... Cats, in general, are dicks.

Dogs may have an annoying constant need for attention (it is my firm belief that every dog bark conversation goes along the lines of "Hey! Hey! Look at me! Hey! I'm a DOOOOOG!"), but cats are just kinda douches on purpose.

That is not saying that I don't love my cats. I have 2: Ichi and Hime (pronounced 'E-chi' and 'Hey-get-offa-that'), and I am by far a cat person. For the most part, I don't particularly care for dogs. I make an exception for some (looking at you Tobin, Howie, Maddie, and Wicket), but in general I could take or leave them. It's something to do with the licking. Cats though, I tend get along with.

I noticed an increase in dickish behavior when we had to move our cats to our room. Ichi was not getting along with our roommates dog Howie. She for some reason thought she was some sort of kitty bad ass, and would win a fight, even though Howie could pretty much fit her entire body in his mouth. So we started keeping them in our room, and it has worked out pretty well so far, with the exception of two things.

The first thing is Hime when we try to go to sleep.

This is Hime.

Hime has decided that any part of the bed is hers. Not ours to share. Nope. Hers. That includes any body part that touches any part of 'her' bed. Why is this a problem? Because her favorite place to sleep is my or Brad's face.

It's not even that she wants to sleep close to us, no, it's that she has to 'check' before she lays down. By check I mean that she has to rub her whiskers in our face, or lick our eyeballs until we wake up. Once we do that, then she will deign to stick her butt in our face and lay down.

The other thing is Ichi's random neediness.

Ichi is a bundle of fluff and neurosis. She is not really a lap cat, and will only cuddle as long as you are petting her.

Unless I am in my computer chair.

Apparently this computer chair has some sort of magical psychotic cat attractant. It is usually only when I am trying to get something done, and usually goes something like this:

Me: *Typing away*

Ichi: *Distraction mode engaged*

Me: *Feels paw patting my leg and looks down*

-Insert suspenseful music from Jaws here-

Ichi: Hey, can I come in your lap? You're not busy or anything right?

Me: Well... actually I am trying to get some work done.

Ichi: Oh, hey, that's cool... Imma come up anyways.

Me: But internetz and writing and work!

Ichi: Nope. Now pet me bee-yotch.

Commence her jumping on my lap and me not being able to get any work done. If I put her down, the cycle starts again, but this time with *BONUS claw action,* so I usually take it as a sign that it is time for a break and pet her anyways. Until she realizes that I am paying absolutely all my attention to her and she jumps down, because her mission is now complete.

So those are my cats, and yeah they are pretty much dicks. I still love them though. I know they love me too, because what else do you call wanting to be so close to me that you sleep on my face blocking my airways or only want to cuddle when I can't, keeping me from working. That's what love is, right? Right?

Period

*Special note: This post is about women and women's issues. If that would make you uncomfortable, you might want to stop reading now*

Brad and I were on the way back from Walmart to get tampons, and he asked me why I didn't want him to go by himself to get them (since my knee was in a lot of pain, and navigating the store added to it). I thought about it, and replied that I didn't want him to because most guys are embarrassed, and some even a little resentful, when asked by their girlfriend/wife/sister/mother to go get female products for them.


Brad, to his credit, does not give a flying flip about being seen in public with a box of tampons or pads. Most of the credit goes to his wonderful mother, who raised my husband to respect women. He is as close to a feminist as you can get with out actually having a uterus, and I love him all the more for that.


It got me thinking though.

There is this pervasive attitude that once a month I should be ashamed of myself and my body, as should any other woman. It is not just me being sensitive either.  

 There is a running joke, that I have heard several times in my life that goes along the lines of " I don't trust anything that bleeds for five days and doesn't die." Though the quote comes from South Park, which is a satire and therefore not to be taken seriously, I have heard the quote used in defamatory way. It is a clear example of the kind of thought process that surrounds a woman being on her period.

Let's look at what women are up against shall we:


 Some of this attitude comes from Christianity/Judaism.

Leviticus 20:18 

If a man lies with a woman during her menstrual period and uncovers her nakedness, he has made naked her fountain, and she has uncovered the fountain of her blood. Both of them shall be cut off from among their people.

Leviticus 15:19-30 

“When a woman has a discharge, and the discharge in her body is blood, she shall be in her menstrual impurity for seven days, and whoever touches her shall be unclean until the evening. And everything on which she lies during her menstrual impurity shall be unclean. Everything also on which she sits shall be unclean. And whoever touches her bed shall wash his clothes and bathe himself in water and be unclean until the evening. And whoever touches anything on which she sits shall wash his clothes and bathe himself in water and be unclean until the evening.

 The Quran is less harsh, but still finds menstruating women impure:

"They will ask you about menstruation. Say, 'It is harmful, so keep away from women during it. Do not approach them until they are purified of it, when they are purified you may approach them as Allah has ordained." (Qur'an 2:222)

The message there is pretty clear. Once a month a woman is impure, and should be treated as such. Very few people still take these scriptures to the fullest extent (which would mean basically shunning a woman for a week out of every month), but the attitude of disdain still remains.
 
 Now consider that these religions make up the base of our culture in the United States (less so the Quran). Though we would like to think that our approach to moral standards have moved past the yoke of religion, especially in areas like politics, the latest election coverage shows this is not true. Religion still colors every bit of society even a little bit.


I am not blaming religion completely though.


Some of this attitude comes from wanting a place of power (or in this case wanting to keep a place of power). Think about much money is made off of the women's health industry. Think also of the easiest way to gain power over someone: make them think less of themselves. If you tell someone that there is something wrong with them for a week out of a month often enough they will start to believe it. Once they start to believe it, well then you have power over them.


What does that mean for women? 


It means a culture of shame surrounding menstruation. It means that most of the world still thinks that a bodily function is impure. It means tons of euphemisms like 'that time of the month,' 'feminine needs,' 'feminine products,' 'Aunt Flo,' and 'on the rag' to make sure no one's delicate sensibilities are offended.

This attitude of skirting around has even seeped into advertising. Think about the last commercial for pads or tampons you watched. It should have featured something like a woman wearing all white (white being a color of purity and cleanliness), because if you use their product no one can tell you are tainted. Some commercials also feature an absorbency test, but they never use red liquid. No, that would be too much like what is actually happening, instead they use a safe colored liquid (usually blue). 

Think about the message that sends: seeing a dead body on CSI is okay, but seeing blood colored liquid on a product made specifically for that reason is not. 

This attitude is not only saddening, it is also dangerous. 

When a subject becomes taboo it is all the harder to find education on it. I remember my sex education classes. Menstruation was only discussed in terms of having to use products once a month (with no information on the different types, styles or absorbences), and the important fact: once you started your period, you could get pregnant.


In terms of education there is also a myth that if you use tampons, it will make you loose, and will break your hymen (de-virginized by tampon). I wont even go into the discussion of the myth of the all important virginity. Instead, I will simply say that tampons are a great product, have saved many a pair of underwear, and are the option when you have a heavy period (other than wearing a diaper). Yes, there is a miniscule chance it can break your hymen, but not all women are born with hymens, and "strenuous activities, such as bicycle riding, horseback riding, stretching, or dancing, can also cause the hymen to break." (Go Ask Alice).

Instead of all of this discussion about tampons deflowering (a euphemism I hate by the way) women, why not educate about TSS (toxic shock syndrome). TSS is a legitimate medical concern, and unfortunately one that I had to learn about from the literature included in the tampons themselves. 


The worst part of this lack of education is the fear in going to a doctor, and misdiagnosis. This is less true if you go to a female doctor, but is still there. Many times serious conditions like PCOS or endometriosis can be misdiagnosed as just period pain, and many women are hesitant to go to the doctor because of the fact that anything to do with vaginal issues are sent to an OBGYN which is considered a specialist and costs more. 


Under the same token, we are told over and over that periods are supposed to be painful, so a lot of times it is assumed that extreme pain is part of the menstruation process. It's not. If you are experiencing painful periods to the point where it interferes in your everyday activities, you need to see a doctor.


So what can be done?

I am not saying that every woman should go out there and throw the fact that they are menstruating in everyone's face. That would be silly, and is tantamount to going around and telling everybody you have allergies (both something your body can't control), not because you should be ashamed, but instead because no one really cares. 

Instead what we need to do is realize that there is nothing to be ashamed of. Menstruation is a biological process, and biological processes can not make you impure (the thought of a women's purity is a ridiculous misogynistic myth anyways). 


Also take control of your health. Every woman knows her body, and knows what is normal and what isn't (despite the current politicians attitudes on the subject). If you feel something out side of your normal period symptoms, tell your doctor. Make him or her do tests. Don't let them write it off as PMS or just normal pain.


Finally, become an advocate for yourself and for women. This is the hardest one, but the one that has the most potential for real change. When a piece of anti-women law comes out (looking at you personhood bills) take action: start a petition, go to a rally, tell your family and friends, vote. Because, in the end, the only thing that will change attitudes is education.

Night of the Living Fanservice

While perusing the local library (Which is a fun word by the way, perusing. say it with me 'pear-ooze-ing'. Makes you feel fancy, don't it?) I found a book that I was not sure should exist, but that I knew I had to check out anyways. That book was Night of the Living Trekkies by Kevin David Anderson and Sam Stall.

I first thought of the book like a literary PB&J, two great tastes that taste great together (not that I eat PB&J's, but the simile stands). Then I started reading the book.

Don't get me wrong, the authors are very adept writers and the premise is interesting enough, but instead of a delicious word sandwich, I felt like I was being forced to eat a pound of super rich chocolate. It would have been good in little bits, but taken in one sitting it was too much.

The problem was the fan service. It is one thing to have a little bit of sly tongue in cheek geek references, but it is another to do what the first half of the book does. You don't have to prove you're a geek on every page of a book, because after a few chapters of it I am going to stop thinking it is cute or funny. After a few chapters of it, I am going to start thinking you are having a metaphorical nerd pissing contest with your reader, and that is pretty far from enjoyable.

That being said, once the book got into the swing of things it got better. It stopped being up its own butt, and started being a legit sci-fi horror novel. From that point it started being something approaching great.

I am glad I didn't give up on it, because in the end it was pretty darned good.
Plus the book trailer was pretty funny too.

Quittin' Time...

3 days ago Brad and I looked at each other over the smoldering bits of our last cigarette. I would like to say that our eyes smoldered too, but I can't. Instead all that filled the air was the sense of apprehension. The great question 'are we doing the right thing?' hung above our heads. Neither of us gave voice to it, so the question evaporated with the smoke.

3 days later and it, to put it bluntly, sucks.

I haven't been smoking as long as Brad, and I don't (still can't bring myself to use the past tense yet) smoke as much as he did, so I thought it would be easier on me. I forgot that feelings aren't something that can be compared.

There is hope though. A small shred of light breaking through the horizon, struggling to shine on my face. That hope is that after today the physical symptoms stop. After today it is all in my head, and I have vastly more scary things in my brain than some piddly little addiction.

So bring in on withdrawal. Bring it right the frick on.

The Dance of the Dead

The dance of the dead

Is a waltz,

Played to a dirge.

It is played by musicians

Whose instruments ,

Are made of coffin wood, and cobwebs and dust.

The music of the dead

Is played only rarely,

In the darkest depths of night.

But when it is played,

When the musicians take up their instruments,

It is played with vigor.

As the moon shines down,

It gleams off bone,

As the dancers take the stage.

The dance is intricate,

And as old as time itself,

But the steps are new every time.

It is said,

That dead men tell no tales,

But they dance a ditty.